


Touchy

by Morning66



Category: Boy Meets World
Genre: First Kiss, Friendship, Homophobic Language, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-13 17:49:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29032707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morning66/pseuds/Morning66
Summary: The thing was, they had always been touchy, him and Cory.
Relationships: Shawn Hunter/Cory Matthews
Comments: 9
Kudos: 70





	Touchy

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! =D
> 
> Warnings: Homophobic language, swearing

The thing was, they had always been touchy, him and Cory.   
  
It wasn't anything Shawn was used to. His dad had never been the hands on type, save a few rough pats on the back now and then and maybe a swing when he had too much whiskey. His mom, when she was around, hadn't been either, off her rocker half the time and high the other half.   
  
But, Cory, Cory was always touching him, always pressing a hand to his shoulder, or squeezing in by him on the couch when there was an open chair or ruffling his hair and letting his hand linger there a good ten seconds longer than necessary. And that wasn't even mentioning the hugs.   
  
Shawn thought Cory must have hugged him more than anyone else alive, maybe everyone else alive combined. He hugged him when something went well, he hugged him when something went bad, he hugged when he got back from a week long trip to visit some eccentric ailing relative in Wheeling.    
  
The thing about Cory's hugs were that they felt real--safe and secure and meaningful and everything a hug was supposed to feel like. They didn't feel like it was some obligation like when your stinky old grandmother visited and gave you a stiff one-armed squeeze that only succeeded in filling your nose with the smell of cat piss and cigarette smoke. No, they felt nice. Great, even.   
  
Somewhere along the line, Shawn realized when he was fifteen, somewhere along the line he started not just reciprocating, but initiating. It wasn't anything that came naturally to him, but maybe Cory rubbed off on him over the years because he started slinging his arm around Cory's shoulders when they walked through the halls and nudging his feet under the table at lunch and pressing their forearms together when they laid on Cory's bed.   
  
At the time, Shawn hadn't thought anything of it. He and Cory were best friends and would be best friends forever, if promises were to be believed. (They weren't, not in his life at least, but he made an exception for Cory because he was Cory.) Touching and hugging and hair ruffling were just things they did, no matter if other best friends didn't do them.   
  
It was how he liked it and he figured Cory did too.   
  
****  
  
It was only after the whole finding new friends situation that Shawn started giving actual thought to the whole him and Cory touching issue.    
  
The truth was, Shawn had hated running around with new friends, with guys that barely knew him. Shawn, while he was relatively popular in a notorious sort of way, had never been the sort of guy to have a lot of friends. No, he had casual acquaintances, people he would fist bump in the hallway and laugh with in the bathroom and never think of outside of school. And he had Cory, who knew just about every inch of him, front and back, inside and outside.   
  
So, when Shawn started hanging out with the new boys, he hadn't exactly known how to act. For God's sake, he hadn't needed to make friends since he was in kindergarten. At first, it had been fine. Hamburger's at Pink's and jokes about the waitress's ass and an awkward wave to Mr Matthews who stopped for lunch that gave him a tiny thrill because for sure Mr M was going to tell Cory he saw him here.   
  
Everything had been going well until Shawn had given the boy next to him whose name may or may not have been Justin a pat on the shoulder. It'd been benign, really it had! A barely there pat that was nothing like the gentle, lingering ones he and Cory gave each other.   
  
"Woah, Hunter, getting kinda handsy there, aren't ya?" Justin (or possibly Jackson?) crowed. "You aren't some homo, huh?"   
  
It'd been a joke. The two other guys had laughed and Shawn had too, had forced it out like he did as a kid when his old man told those stories with more holes than Swiss cheese.   
  
"Nah," Shawn had said and adeptly changed the subject to two girls who had come in the front door, ignoring the unsettled feeling in the pit of his stomach.   
  
Later, though, after he and Cory got back together to use everyone else's terminology, the comment stayed with Shawn as he was lying in bed, trying to fall asleep.

It wasn't that he hadn't known he and Cory were abnormal because he had. No, it was that he'd always thought they were weird in a good way, that they had something better than what most friends had. Now, staring up at the crack in the ceiling and watching headlights from the road, Shawn was starting to question it.   
  
It wasn't just what Justin had said. Shawn could handle words and slurs and fun being poked at him. Those were things he'd grown up with and they were all part of the raggedy quilt that made up his childhood. He didn't like them and they left a bad taste in his mouth, sure, but they weren't the end of the world.   
  
No, it had been other things too. Topanga's loud "Stop it, you're boys!" that felt so much less like a joke then it had when they were in kindergarten. The odd look Feeny sent them when they hugged like buffoons in his office. (Not that Shawn cared what Feeny thought. He's not Eric with his fucking hard-on for the old geezer. But still.)   
  
It was one thing for Shawn's new (now ex) friends to say things. They were idiots who would probably spend the rest of their lives working minimum wage jobs, shooting the bull, and checking out underage waitresses. But Topanga and Feeny? They knew things.   
  
Shawn sighed and flipped over in bed. Even though winter was coming to Philly, he felt hot and sweaty. He stuck a leg out from under the blanket and clenched his teeth for a second.   
  
So what if he liked when Cory hugged him? So what if Cory was his favorite person in the world? That didn't make him gay, that's for sure. He'd liked it as much as the next guy when his last girlfriend let him stick his hand up her shirt.

But, somehow, that line of thought didn't make his stomach feel any less uneasy.

****

The next day they hung out at Cory's and ostensibly did homework, which for them involved a lot of chilling in Cory's room and talking about nothing and everything. Cory had a big thing of cheese balls, the kind that came in those huge plastic barrels with a purple lid that he was stuffing his face with. Every minute or so he'd hand Shawn some to stuff his face with so that by the end of the night they would both probably end up very full and very orange.    
  
Out of the blue when neither of them were eating cheese balls, Cory gave Shawn one of his patented Cory Matthews grins and slung his arm around Shawn's shoulders. "I'm glad you're back, Shawnie."   
  
"Me too, Cor," Shawn said and leaned into the touch. It felt safe and secure, but at the same time he couldn't get out of his mind his thoughts from the previous night.   
  
"I mean, Lionel. Lionel! What was I even thinking?" Cory continued.   
  
"He did have those grapes," Shawn pointed out, still nestled against Cory's side.   
  
"Grapes, schmapes! He couldn't hold a candle to you, babe." Cory gave Shawn's shoulder a squeeze.   
  
It was at that moment that Shawn realized that maybe everyone had a point about them being way too close and possibly super gay. Not that it was true, mind you, just that maybe it did come off that way.   
  
Shawn sat up straight and pulled away from Cory, turning so they were facing each other. Their knees knocked together, the bare skin from Shawn's knee pressing against Cory's rough jeans. Cory floundered for a second, seeming surprised that Shawn had moved.   
  
"Do you ever think..." Shawn trailed off, not sure of how to continue.    
  
"Do I ever think what?"   
  
"Do you ever think we're too close?" Shawn finally asked, running a hand nervously through his hair.   
  
Cory looked vaguely like a kicked puppy. "I thought we went through this, Shawn. We'll be friends forever. All this college stuff will work out, you'll see."   
  
While Cory's conviction was reassuring, that wasn't what Shawn had meant. "I didn't mean college, Cor. I meant, do you ever think maybe people get the wrong idea about us?"   
  
"What wrong idea?"   
  
"That maybe we touch too much and maybe people think we're..." Shawn didn't want to say the word. "Well, you know."   
  
Shawn knew Cory did know because his confusion had morphed into apprehension tinged with fear.   
  
"Do you think people think that?"

Shawn shrugged and pulled at the sleeve of his flannel. "I dunno," he said. "I asked the question."   
  
"Yeah," Cory said. "We'll, I'm not into guys or anything. I mean, c'mon, I've got Topanga."   
  
"I didn't say you were, I asked if you thought anyone _thought_ that we were." For some reason, Shawn felt vaguely annoyed.   
  
Cory, seeming to not have heard Shawn, continued. "I mean, my dad would probably freak if I was or anything. Like freak freak."   
  
Shawn shifted, thinking of Mr Matthews. He did look at them strangely sometimes when they sat too close on the couch or the like. At the same time, though, he had always been supportive and accepting of Shawn, more than most adults were. He'd put up with his shit many times over and always welcomed him back.   
  
"And I mean..."   
  
Shawn snapped out of it when he realized Cory was halfway to one of his big Cory freakouts. He reached out and put a hand on Cory's shoulder. "Cor. Calm down, okay? You're not, I'm not. It's fine. It's nothing."   
  
"Yeah?" Cory asked. For some reason, he looked a little disappointed.   
  
"Yeah," Shawn said, leaning forward to give his friend a hug.   
  
Or, it was supposed to be a hug, but somehow he ended with his lips against Cory's, not sure of who started what.   
  
For a long ten seconds, neither of them moved, their sticky, cheesy lips pressed against each other. A million thoughts ran through Shawn's mind, all boiling down to _w_ _hat the hell is happening._   
  
Then, he thought fuck this. He knew how to kiss. He'd kissed a very impressive amount of girls in his seventeen years. If he and Cory were going to kiss, then they were going to kiss.    
  
When they finally pulled back, flushed with lips still vaguely orange from the cheese balls, they just stared at each other for a few minutes. Then, taking a risk, Shawn let a grin spread across his face. It grew even bigger when Cory's mouth started to form one of his usual awkward, goofy, Cory grin.   
  
Maybe, Shawn thought, maybe all those people were thinking the right thing, not the wrong one. Maybe that wasn't a bad thing.   
  



End file.
